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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26387884">Burn My Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower123ink/pseuds/sunflower123ink'>sunflower123ink</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Ginny Weasley is a heartbreaker, Implied Unhealthy Relationship, Love, Stream of Consciousness, fire metaphors, neither of their names are mentioned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:27:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,163</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26387884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower123ink/pseuds/sunflower123ink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Her fingertips leave trails of searing desire as they trace him. He can smell the destruction and see the ruin and then he tosses his head back and he can't see it anymore. He inhales the flowery scent that surrounds her and kisses her while he still can. He wonders if this aching in his chest is love, or if it is his poor burning heart. Maybe both. Because he can't deny falling in love with her creations. Her chaos. Her fire, and her <em>burn.</em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Burn My Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey! There is a more detailed A/N at the end of this that just kind of talks so all I have to say is, hope you like it! &lt;3</p><p>Not beta'd<br/>I do not own Harry Potter, its characters, its plot, or anything written by JKR.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He isn't quite sure when the heat of her hand became something he was aware of. He isn't quite sure when he began to count the freckles and create constellations. He isn't quite sure when her hair became wildfire that was dancing to the beats his heart thumped. He still isn't quite sure why he stepped closer to the radiating heat if he knew he was going to be burned. He isn't quite sure when the quirk of her lips became something he was so attached to. He isn't quite sure when he began mapping out her personality, circling key points and hanging on to half-finished sentences. He isn't quite sure when she became something locked that he needed the key to.</p><p>He doesn't know when her snarky comments began to twist a smile around his lips. He doesn't know when her laugh began to sound like, well not chimes, and not tinkling bells. It's nicer than that. Not prettier, but...better. It's a melody of his own interests. He doesn't know when the curve of her nose began to be something important. He doesn't know when the swoop of her cupids bow began to draw his eyes like a magnet to metal. He doesn't know when her voice began a ringing symphony in his head. He doesn't know when his heart began aching so terribly, or beating so quickly.</p><p>He doesn't know why she smells like something forbidden. Like flowers and maybe a tad bit of ash. The fire in her hair is dancing too close to him, he thinks. He thinks her laugh is the music it's dancing to, with his very own heart forming the beat. He doesn't know how he fell in love with her, or when, but he thinks he only fell in love with parts of her at first. He thinks that he fell in love with her freckles. He thinks he got too obsessed with counting each one, knowing where they were. He thinks it was her hair next. He thinks fire in the wind is too tame a comparison and the trail of charred hearts left behind her somehow didn't draw his attention as much as the dip in her hip did. He thinks her eyes came next. He thinks he fell straight into them, and enjoyed his stay just too much. He thinks he fell in love with the looks she tossed him over her shoulder. He thinks he fell in love with her not-quite-tinkling-bells laugh, and then the line of her nose, and then the bow above her lip, and then her too sarcastic comments. He thinks that he fell in love with her lips next. </p><p>Even though kissing her seared his chest he continued to do so. He could smell burnt flesh, and could see his own skin burning and yet somehow, she was still just as intoxicating. Somehow, she was still just as out of reach as well. She was still out of reach even though he could see burns forming on his fingertips and traveling to his wrists from holding her so close. She was standing in front of him and he wanted to douse the both of them in water just to stop the scorch. Just to love normally without knowing she would turn into wisps of smoke and shift away from him. The words in his throat become choked and stuck at the back of his mouth. Tendrils of smoke are curling around them and whispering in his ears, pulling letters slowly one by one down back into obscurity, and he ends up staying silent. He watches the flames rise around them and continues to kiss her, becoming addicted to the taste of her lips. He knows he isn't just addicted. He is <em>dependent.</em> He is unable to live without the taste of cinders and sparks swirling on his tongue. He watched as she burned everyone around her and then burned him a bit too, and continued to hold her waist, ignoring the heat rising from his fingertips. Ignoring the scalding he feels, sure that there will be scars later. There aren't. Other than the ones on his heart. 
He watched the hearts she left behind go up in flames, but they kept blurring out of focus, words turning into vapor and being blown away from his ears. He was too focused on the skipping fire.</p><p>It was hypnotizing. Mesmerizing. Something he knew he should look away from and yet...And yet they made his eyes glow and his stomach swoop. Even if the smell made his eyes water and throat hoarse, how could it be bad when anticipation curled in his veins and twisted inside of him? Even as he coughed and clutched at his burning chest, the swirling flames made his pulse beat faster. Embers danced around his skin, and something throbbed other than blistering heat at his wrists and neck. Something other than her eyes branded itself across him. Maybe it was fear flying around his stomach or maybe it was adrenaline making a home in his heart. (It was fire, it was always fire.) He was so busy watching her legs stride as confidently as the flames enticed that he didn't take note of his own heart smoking slightly.<br/>
He ignored the smoke like he always did. </p><p>Like he did when her heels left indents in the ground and fire in her wake.</p><p>Like he did when her heels were leaving indents into his rib cage cavity and crushing through bone, straight to the tenderness that was his love.</p><p>Like he did when her eyes turned amber in the sun, and this time when he fell into them it wasn't into honey.</p><p>This time when he fell into them it <em>hurt.</em></p><p>Like he did when she smiled and her teeth gleamed and nipped too harshly. They nipped not at his throat but at his mind. Teeth tearing into his walls and bringing them crashing down, his heart not shattering but melting under the onslaught of humidity.</p><p>Like he did when he stood next to her, the world burnt at their feet.</p><p>Like he did when he got burnt too and her laugh still rang in the fire's pattern, and his heart was now charred too and he kissed her and it <em>seared</em> and <em>God</em> he loved every bit of the heat that leeched onto his hands around her waist and the flames that set him on <em>fire</em> from the inside out. He was being <em>incinerated,</em> and he <em>adored</em> it, was <em>falling</em> in love with it. From the way his heart hurt, to the way his body thrummed and his blood sung, and his veins were housing pure spitfire <em>racing through them and he loved it-</em></p><p>And then she was gone. Only the memories of glittering brown (amber) eyes and twirling, mesmerizing spirals of smoke left.</p><p>Burn my heart. Raze it to the ground if you must, but only after you have kissed me, please.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi! Sooo I actually had an actual something with plot going called 'Affections' but just as I was almost finished with the ending of it, it got  d e l e t e d. Yea. So I've only rewritten the first half of it cause I'm a little bummed out and my life's a mess but hey! I hoped you liked this, it was just a little something on a whim. Hopefully the next thing to appear on this page will have a story to it. :) &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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